


everything so soft and still

by Lint



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 13:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9659780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lint/pseuds/Lint
Summary: She's happy. She's never been so happy. And she has absolutely no idea how to handle it.





	

They don't make a big deal out of it.

 

When it happens for the second time.

 

Veronica Lodge kissing Betty Cooper without the bored eyes of Cheryl Blossom and her cronies cutting right through false intentions. No grand finale. No tired spectacle. Veronica sees a moment and seizes it, for no reason other than she wants to. When Betty kisses back, it feels like the present on Christmas day you kept dropping hints for and actually got. The shift is subtle, a moment of a certainty shared between the two. _You're mine now_ , a silent agreement signed and sealed with every kiss. _You always were_ , a declaration shared with each look passed between them.

 

It's not like they intend to hide, but it feels too new to just let the outside word stick its unwanted nose into their business right away. Unwritten rules are established without so much as having to confer. No hand holding through the halls, or public displays of affection, to fuel jerks like Reggie and Chuck's dude bro lesbian cheerleader fantasies.No pet names or lingering stares, things to bring about the venomous dismissal of their change in status from Cheryl, because such a thing would take away precious attention. Her most cherished commodity.

 

Still, they do share looks, quick and fleeting as they are. The warm sensation passed in simple eye contact, knowing that it causes the others heart to flutter. Some days when school has let out and the two of them are left ambling around campus for one extracurricular activity or another, standing opposite each other at their respective lockers, Betty will brave the space between them. Wrap her arms around Veronica from behind, drop her chin to her shoulder, say 'hey' into her ear and nothing else.

 

They don't make a big deal out of it.

 

Being together.

 

Some things are just the way they are.

 

/\

 

Their first official date is a Friday night at the Bijou, post River Vixen duties, with the show time late enough to have the theater almost entirely to themselves. An elderly couple sits side by side in the front row, so sweet to Betty she can't help the 'aww' that comes from the sight, nudging Veronica to get a look for herself.

 

They take to the back row, just under the overhang of the balcony, each with their own small popcorn and a shared cherry Coke. Veronica is oblivious to the movie's existence, some sort of scifi romcom hybrid, but Betty has heard good things and is genuinely curious. Only ten seconds into the third trailer, do they end up making out, the classic cliché too tempting to ignore. Arms wrapped around each other in an awkward manor, due to the theaters ancient seats, with kisses that taste sweet and salty.

 

Betty's hands dip to the small of Veronica's back, fingers slipping under the hem of her top to tease along the skin, the brunette signaling her approval with a flourish, pressing so much closer and nearly knocking them from their seats.

 

The sound of someone clearing their throat, zaps them apart like an lightning strike, sending both bags of popcorn flopping onto the floor. Betty's ears burn red as her hands plop into her lap, expecting to be escorted toward the exit by an annoyed usher, only looking up when Veronica elbows her in the ribs.

 

“Oh hey Jug,” she says shyly at the appearance of her friend, standing before them with an extra large soda and take out bag from Pop's. “We were just-”

 

“Waiting to be romanced into the space age?” Jughead finishes. “Me too. If the tag line for this flick is to be believed anyway.”

 

He takes a seat next to Betty without an invitation, but makes no comment about their heavy petting, and actually offers to share his fries in lieu of their spilled popcorn.

 

Later, when they're walking home with pinkies clasped loosely together under the streetlamps, Betty laments their a first date could be going better.

 

“Could be worse,” Veronica offers.

 

“How so?”

 

“Jughead could have been Cheryl.”

 

They right the ship by ending the night at Pop's, sit on the same side of a booth, share a chocolate vanilla swirl milkshake and hold hands under the table.

 

/\

 

Betty is on her hands and knees, shuffling around the carpet of her bedroom floor, because for the life of her she cannot find her house key. After checking every item of clothing she owns that has pockets, or anything resembling pockets, she's reduced to scouring any tiny crevice between the furniture in the hope that it had somehow fallen between them.

 

No luck between the wall and vanity, nor the dresser and window, and not the desk or nightstand. Seriously, things don't up and disappear, she's too meticulous to have just randomly left it somewhere. So by all reason it should be within the confines of her stupid pink room.

 

One hand is patting madly around under the bed when she feels it, a garment far too soft and plush to be anything she owns, pulling out a simple black sweater she knows must be Veronica's the instant her fingers touched it. Cashmere, obviously. A real one. The vast array of twenty dollar cardigans from Kohl's she owns paling in comparison.

 

Her mind instantly jumps to how the garment ended up under the bed. She had taken it off herself, peeling it from Veronica's shoulders, and kissing her way down the brunette's neck. The rare occasion they had taken one of their make out sessions to the Cooper household, scrambling apart so quickly when her parents came home, neither girl had the forethought that one of them was sans a lavish article of clothing.

 

Betty holds it up with arms outstretched, attempting to shake out any wrinkles it might have acquired being bunched up on the floor, before pulling it into her chest and breathing in. The hair on the back of her neck rises with the familiar scent, fresh cut flowers and expensive perfume, Chanel number whatever.

 

Eyes falling closed, with a smile on her face so wide her cheeks burn, Betty is hit with a sudden terrifying thought.

 

She's happy.

 

She's never been so happy.

 

And she has absolutely no idea how to handle it.

 

/\

 

Running a newspaper is hard.

 

Though she's had a vicarious knowledge of how the business works, being born and raised into it by familiar association, when there's only two people doing the work the task becomes overwhelming. Another late night in the Blue and Gold office, editing Jughead's latest article through bleary eyes, she nearly falls asleep at the desk on more than one occasion.

 

It doesn't help that she skipped dinner, heading right back here the second Vixens practice was over, to finish all the layouts and edit half a dozen articles. Her stomach rumbles for the umpteenth time, and she hopes that granola bar she'd gotten from the vending machine but never ate, is still in her bag.

 

She's been staring at the same sentence for nearly five minutes, when a knock on the door frame pulls her attention away, an instant smile on her face at the sight of Veronica giving a small wave with one hand and lifting a bag of Chinese takeout with the other.

 

“You're officially the best girlfriend ever,” Betty declares before devouring an entire helping of moo shu pork.

 

They're sitting side by side atop the main desk, shoulders touching, each with cartons and chopsticks in hand. Veronica tilts her head after a bite of broccoli beef.

 

“Was there every any doubt?”

 

Betty shakes her head, still chewing vigorously, and taking a sip of ginger ale they'd gotten from the machine outside the cafeteria.

 

“Of course not, but like, I was just wallowing in regret for not eating after practice then you show up out of nowhere so, yeah. Best ever.”

 

She wipes her mouth with a napkin, before leaning over to kiss Veronica's cheek, who sighs contently.

 

“It's hard not to adore you, Cooper,” she says before taking another bite.

 

Betty blushes.

 

“Well, I gotta pull my weight in this relationship, don't I?”

 

Veronica sets down her food, lifting a hand to stroke Bettie's cheek.

 

“You're being pulled in a lot of directions lately,” she says in all seriousness. “I'm kind of worried.”

 

“I'm fine.”

 

Veronica's hand moves to rest under Betty's chin.

 

“You'd tell me if you weren't though, wouldn't you?”

 

Betty leans into her touch.

 

“Ronnie, I'd tell you anything.”

 

/\

 

Veronica shifts in her sleep, reaching out for Betty, but feeling nothing but sheets. Her eyes peer open to an empty spot on the bed where the girl in question certainly was, before Veronica nodded off to dream land. She groans in disappointment at the absence, hand rubbing slow circles to where her sleep addled brain thinks a certain blonde should be, and pausing when coming across a piece of paper that has no place here.

 

The promise made creeps back into her conscious thought, that Betty couldn't stay the night with her mother and all, but she wouldn't leave until Veronica had fallen asleep. It's a rare moment, Veronica wishing that Betty wouldn't keep her word, that she could have slept in her arms all night and woken in the morning to a little ray of sunshine she could call her own.

 

She pouts against her pillow, the piece of paper crinkling in hand, curious to what it could be but not wanting to turn a light on to see. Seconds pass before she groans again, rolling over to turn on the lamp perched on her nightstand, blinking against the brightness and trying to bring the words written on the paper into focus.

 

_Betty Cooper was here._

 

Four little words written on a bright pink post it, and it brings about the biggest, dumbest smile Veronica has ever felt. It hits her then, that she doesn't actually have post its let alone pink ones, lying around. That Betty must carry them on her at all times, and if that doesn't say something about the girl she adores, then what does?

 

Reaching for her phone, she sends Betty a picture of the found note, and her own.

 

_you're so cute, it's disgusting, I just might hate you for it._

 

Betty, despite the late hour, replies instantly.

 

_nice try, Lodge. you love me._

 

Veronica stares forever at the four letter word, realizing yes, yes she does.

 

/\

 

Spring formal is Riverdale High's attempt at fairness for the lower classes. No prom for sophomore's or freshman, so another cobbled together activity drenched in miles of streamers and crepe paper, is a proverbial bone tossed their way.

  
Betty is on the planning committee, because of course she is, and drags Veronica along for input but the school can't actually afford any of her suggestions. Still, she's got a designers eye that Betty can't stop complimenting, so she puts it to use for the good of the student body. It doesn't hurt that there are thrice weekly meetings, where the committee ends up sticking around for twenty minutes or less, leaving Betty and Veronica to themselves to forge the dance in any way they see fit.

 

“We're going, aren't we?” Betty asks one night, after all the other volunteers have filtered out of the meeting room, with her eyes still focused on the clipboard in front of her.

 

“I thought that was a given,” Veronica replies, with an emphatic wave of her hand. “All this work and we're not going to reap the reward?”

 

“No, I mean like, together.”

 

That gets Veronica's attention, pulling it away from the task at hand.

 

“Are you ready for that?” She asks seriously.

 

Betty's eyes are still centered on the clipboard, but she nods.

 

“It's not like people don't know we're dating,” she replies. “And honestly? I'm a little sick of letting everyone else's opinion interfere with my happiness.”

 

A small smile tugs at Veronica's lips.

 

“You saying I make you happy?”

 

Betty finally looks over to her.

 

“So much. You have no idea.”

 

Veronica moves toward her, pulling the clipboard from her grasp and setting it on the desk, then takes both of Betty's hands in her own.

 

“Then we're doing this proper. I'm talking dresses, matching corsages, limo the whole deal.”

 

“Ronnie,” Betty begins, leaning forward to playfully bump Veronica's nose with her own. “You have to ask me first.”

 

Veronica laughs softly.

 

“Is that so?” She replies.

 

Betty nods.

 

“Well then,” Veronica goes on. “Betty Cooper, will you do me the honor of being my date to Spring formal?”

 

“Yes,” Betty answers with a kiss. “Yes, I will.”

 

Veronica kisses back, arms circling around Betty's neck, each girl unable to help the little laughs between kisses and the euphoria bubbling between them. Veronica already has a dress in mind, corsages that will have one yellow rose, and one red. Obvious metaphors for friendship and love, but small towns like Riverdale aren't big on subtlety.

 

So maybe it's time they make a big deal out of it.

 

Being together.

 

Some things are just the way they are.

 

Meant to be.

 

 

 


End file.
